FRIENDS OF THE WIGWAM: A Civil War Story

by John William Huelskamp

  Shocked by her words, the crowd was stone-cold silent. Allie realized that the whirlwind of her words had been heard and hit the mark.

  “Miss Allie, I thank you for your honesty,” Colonel Smith replied in a fatherly tone. “I want to first tell you that Alfred is safe. I know this to be true because he is my son and I received a letter from him just yesterday. He has just recently taken command of an honorable black regiment. He is training his men to arm themselves and fight for freedom, like many of us who have volunteered to save the Union. Ben and I pray every day for his safe return to Galena.”

  The listeners around the large oak turned their attention to Allie.

  “Well, why don’t he command that regiment? He is a Negro,” replied Allie as she pointed to Captain Parker. “Why don’t he do it, so Alfred can come home?”

  Parker rose up in his saddle as straight as an arrow. The leather saddle and his boots creaked. He smiled and looked directly at Allie as the band struck up “Rally ’Round the Flag” again.

  “Young lady, I am quite pleased to meet you. I see that you are not afraid to speak your mind even in the company of men. Perhaps we should all be as direct on matters of war and matters of death. I am a Seneca Indian. I am not a black man, although the plight of the Negro and Indian to me is the same. There are people across this land who say the Negroes who have toiled in the fields down south and Indians who have roamed freely in their territories are not free to live with white Americans. I fight for the union of the states so that we all will be free someday. Your friend Colonel Ellsworth was killed pulling down a rebel flag in Alexandria, Virginia. His action defined our purpose. You are very special to have had such a patriot as your friend. We hope there are others among you who will become patriots, too, for our noble cause. God bless all of you, and God bless the Union.”

  His comments complete, Parker smiled and tipped his hat to Allie like a Virginia gentleman. Allie nodded back, and the band struck up “Yankee Doodle Dandy” again.

  Colonel Smith looked over at Black Hawk and said, “Ben, would you please hold Black Hawk’s reins for a moment? Captain Parker and I must go to the reviewing stand with Fire Marshal Putnam.”

  “Yes, Father,” replied Ben as he nodded respectfully.

  Smith and Parker pulled off their wide-brimmed black campaign hats. Extending their hats to the sky, they dropped them simultaneously to their breasts. Placing the hats back on their crowns, they tipped the brim, turned from the trees, and spurred their mounts back to the reviewing stand.

  “What are those spots on the captain’s horse?” Trick asked as he pointed to the rump of Parker’s horse.

  “That’s an Appaloosa,” Ben replied. “It’s an Indian war pony.”

  “Wow, by jiminy, I never seen such beauties. Where did you git this big black one?” Trick reached for Black Hawk’s reins. Black Hawk snorted and stomped, causing Trick to pull back in alarm.

  “That’s all right,” Ben said soothingly, stroking Black Hawk’s neck. Then, looking at Trick, he said, “You can pet him on the snout there.”

  Trick stepped closer and rubbed Black Hawk’s nose and glanced at his large fidgety eyes. He moved his hands along Black Hawk’s mane, rubbing Black Hawk on the chest. He noticed a long scar. “How’d he get that?” Trick asked, pointing to it.

  Allie, Jenny, and those around them looked at Ben with interest.

  “My father rode him at Shiloh,” Ben proudly replied. “He was shot by a sniper during the battle, but that didn’t stop him at all. My father rode him down the length of the field and damn near captured the whole rebel army!” Ben, realizing he was getting caught up in the moment, paused with some embarrassment and then continued. “Well sorry for the ‘d’ word, but I know Black Hawk did help round up a hundred rebels, and our Illinois boys stood their ground.”

  Trick stepped closer to Black Hawk’s side. He gently stroked the scar with his right hand. Black Hawk snorted again as if comforted by the movement.

  “Will he ever go back to battle?”

  “Yes, he will,”Ben responded enthusiastically. “My father is giving him to Fire Marshal Putnam today as a gift for raising the Freeport men. That is why I am holding him here for now. We want it to be a surprise for him, just like when Captain Parker brought him to our family in Galena when he was just a pony four years ago. Black Hawk was the little pony that a couple Freeport boys saved from the fire! We’ve been riding him ever since. He’s as good as they get. He’s a good Indian stallion and loves to jump creeks and swim the rivers.”

  “Did you say he was the little black pony from the Freeport fire?”

  “Yes. My brother, Alfred, said Captain Parker gave a gold coin to a stable boy to board him for a while in Freeport, and about Christmastime the fire broke out, and Black Hawk was rescued by two boys. I don’t know who they are though.”

  “Hee, hee…you kiddin’ me? Why, those would be my good friends Will and Aaron who rescued Black Hawk. And my other friend T.J. was the boy who shot the powder kegs on top of the belfry to put out the fire!” Trick grinned.

  “Well,” said the surprised Ben, “now I know why my father wishes to give his prized war-horse to Fire Marshal Putnam. Wow. And Alfred was in the tower with T.J., too! We are so proud of you boys,” replied Ben. He felt a sense of brotherhood with Trick now and continued to talk about the horses.

  As they talked, Allie slipped unnoticed down the oak tree and walked over to Jenny. She grabbed both of Jenny’s hands and looked into her eyes. “Let’s go to the wigwam, Jenny,” she said. “I don’t want to be here when Will, Aaron, and T.J. arrive.”

  “But my mother is expecting me here, Allie,” replied Jenny. “Besides, I want to be here when Colonel Smith gives Black Hawk to my father.”

  Allie looked at Jenny once more and then turned away, making her way through the crowd and to the Pecatonica River.

  “Allie, wait for us!” cried Jenny, puzzled. “Colonel Smith said Alfred is OK…that’s good news for Molly Cowan! Molly may even be here today. I’d like you to meet her. She’s taken a liking to Alfred. Please let’s go find her together! Allie, come back, now. Did you hear what I said? Alfred is all right! He’s still alive! The boys, if they join the regiment, will only be in for just a little while!”

  But Allie didn’t respond. Instead she kept walking.

  Jenny started to cup her hands around her mouth so her shouts would carry farther, but she stopped when an older lady nearby glared at her. Looking one last time for Allie, who had disappeared into the crowd, she grasped the front of her petticoat so as not to catch it on the tips of her fancy shoes from Paris and hurried back to the shady oak.

  The rousing song “Battle Cry of Freedom” carried through the afternoon air and rose grandly as the volunteer boys from Freeport and the neighboring towns joined the chorus. Townspeople also joined in. Children waved tiny flags as women smiled and nodded to the boys as they peeked from behind their fans. The patriotic crescendo rose over the crowded square, across the nearby field, and over the yellow grasses that lined the Pecatonica, as if chasing Allie, beckoning her to return to town.

  But Allie kept her pace and did not turn back.

  Chapter 29

  Freeport

  One Week Later

  August, 1862

  The boys stood tall under the big oak tree at the shady grove.

  A week had passed by swiftly. Will was the tallest, just about six feet now. His sandy-blond hair contrasted smartly under his new blue kepi. On the top of the crown was a “93” that was fastened smartly within the curl of a large brass bugle pin. He and the others were officially mustered into Fire Marshal Putnam’s new Union regiment. They were soldiers now, privates in the Ninety-Third Illinois Volunteer Infantry.

  Aaron, as always, was by Will’s side. His green eyes shifted nervously. T.J. Lockwood was next in line but without his trusty rifle. He felt almost naked without it. He looked at the treetop as a squirrel scurried across a limb and leaped to the safety of it
s nest. Beside him was Trick, still short, stout, and slovenly even in his new uniform. Somehow it just didn’t hang well on him. His belly hung over the oval “US” brass belt plate that kept his britches from falling to his ankles. His pants were too long and flopped in rolls over his black military boots. When he walked, the pants dragged at his heels. The uniform caused him to sweat profusely as he always did on hot summer days, but the sweat stains blended into the blue. His hat was not like the others. He had chosen a black wide-brimmed felt campaign hat similar to the white hat he always wore on the river. This hat, though, stood taller at the crown, almost like a big chimney stack. On the front were the same pins, the number “93,” and the bugle like the others had. Though awkward in appearance, he, too, was a soldier in Mr. Lincoln’s army. He felt a sense of pride deep in his broad and bulging chest. He grinned at his friends and then looked towards the Pecatonica River. He wished he had his cane pole in a deep hole just one last time.

  “Boys, do ya see who’s coming out of the trees?” he exclaimed in excitement. “Well, by jiminy, it’s Allie and Jenny comin’ toward us from the wigwam!”

  Will stood erect and peered over Trick, holding him on the shoulders as if using him for a brace. Aaron moved up quickly to his side.

  T.J. squinted. “Looks like they got somethin’ in their hands,” he said slowly. “Well, we’ll be seein’ soon what they’ll be bringin’ this way.”

  There was music in the air, causing the boys to look to the rickety wooden reviewing stand where they had enlisted the week before. A marching band was planted in chairs on it playing “Rally ‘Round the Flag.” It was Fire Marshal Putnam’s signal to come join the ranks before leaving town. Now colonel of the Ninety-Third Illinois Volunteer Infantry, he proudly reined in Black Hawk, who spurred forward and lunged in from the noise and excitement of the gathering crowd.

  In the distance the friends could see the gathering of blue-clad recruits advancing around the reviewing stand. All of them were thinking it was time to join their regiment, yet they did not move because the girls were coming to see them one last time. Rousing lyrics filled the August air as Jenny and Allie walked through the high grass toward the shady oak. In a moment both girls arrived solemn and silent.

  “Well, ladies, I ’spect you’re a comin’ here to wish us a farewell and give us a good kiss!” shouted Trick who grinned ear to ear.

  “Trick, why don’t ya keep those smackers quiet right now,” Allie replied in a huff. “Jenny and I came here to see our sweethearts, not you!”

  A chastened Trick looked down at his shiny new boots, then scooted quickly over to the oak tree where T.J. stood, ramrod-straight as a sentry. There was silence as the girls walked up to Will and Aaron. Then Jenny spoke softly.

  “We have something for you.”

  “What is it?” Will and Aaron asked simultaneously.

  Allie moved closer to Will. She gazed into his sky-blue eyes, admiring how handsome he looked in his smart blue-clad uniform. She could see that his brass buttons on his waistcoat flickered brilliantly even in the shade.

  “Will, I don’t want you to go to this war,” she said softly, “and Jenny don’t want Aaron to go neither.” She stopped to see what reaction she would get.

  Both Will and Aaron remained silent.

  “Well, if ya must go with good Colonel Putnam, ya got to promise us you’ll stay away from harm’s way. Do ya promise?” she pleaded softly.

  Again there was silence. Jenny blushed and then added, “Well, we brought you some branches from the wigwam. We want you to keep them with you for good luck.”

  “The leaves from the Injun oak stand for courage. Remember we picked one for Elmer?” replied Jenny as she smiled gently. “The holly branch stands for eternal love. Its berries are red…and the leaves are deep, dark, and forever green!”

  The silence was awkward again.

  “Give us your kepis,” Jenny said softly.

  Will looked at Aaron this time, caught his glance, and then reached for his kepi. Aaron followed in fashion. Both boys delivered them to the girls.

  Jenny handed a sprig of holly and an oak leaf to Allie who quickly pulled back the stiff leather crown strap of the kepi. She placed the sprig and the leaf to the left of the brim and secured it smartly.

  “Bend down, Will,” she said softly.

  When he had done so, she said in a voice loud enough for the friends to hear, “This oak is for courage on the field of battle. The holly represents my heart!” She put his kepi on his head, embraced him tightly, and then kissed Will on the lips for a moment that seemed to last an eternity.

  Will pulled gently away as the music struck up again in the distance. He held her small hands and gazed at her as if in a dream. Allie pulled him closely to her again and placed her lips near his left ear. “I will love you always, Will,” she whispered softly so no one could hear. “You best keep this holly close to your heart when you lie down your head at night. I will be with you always.”

  As she finished, the cadence of the marching band struck up to a faster beat. The band played “The Girl I Left Behind Me” now, and a pistol shot echoed in the distance. It was Captain Taggart, the former sheriff of Freeport, calling all the boys to muster. Allie’s eyes welled up as she looked once more at Will. A single tear trickled down her cheek. It hovered for a moment at her jaw and then dropped to the dust.

  Aaron turned to Jenny who was flustered at the thought of kissing Aaron in front of the others. He bent forward as Will had, and Jenny placed the cap gently on his head. She kissed Aaron on the cheek, blushed again, and looked down at the ground.

  Aaron spoke gently, “Thank you, Jenny. I will treasure these gifts ’til I come home again.”

  Another pistol shot rang through the air.

  “Well, we best be moving along,” Will said quickly.

  “Wait!” Allie shouted as she pounced quickly to the oak tree where Trick and T.J. were standing silently.

  “T.J., where’s your rifle?” she asked.

  “Left it home, missy,” he replied. “Won’t do much good shootin’ squirrels down south. They are givin’ us Enfields muskets, which are better.”

  “So I ’spect you’ll be shootin’ a lot of turtledoves down south!” Allie replied softly.

  “No, Allie, we’ll be shootin’ men!” He twisted his head in a curious way. His kepi tipped on his head. He balanced it back into position with both hands.

  Allie said. “Well, ya told us in the wigwam that when you shoot one dove, you might as well kill the other ’cause those birds are married for life. You’ll be shootin’ wives and sweethearts if you shoot those boys!”

  The silence was interrupted by another pistol shot. The band now played “Yankee Doodle Dandy” at a fast and furious pace, causing the crowd of blue around the reviewing stand to form into a semblance of a regiment. Colonel Putnam moved to and fro as if herding the remaining recruits into a military formation.

  Allie reached to Jenny. “Give me the oak leaves,” she said softly. Plucking two out of Jenny’s hand, she asked T.J. to bend down so she could reach his kepi. She pulled his crown strap back and placed the leaf snugly in place and then kissed him on the cheek.

  She then turned to Trick, who blushed and started shuffling his boots in the dust. As they were about the same height, he didn’t have to bend down. His large black campaign hat had no band on it, just the “93” pin and the bugle badge. He pulled off his hat, exposing his sweaty brow.

  “Allie, I’ll place the leaf in here,” Trick said as he pulled back the sweatband inside his hat. “This’ll keep it rightly from the sun and rain.” He looked down at the dusty road again. She hesitated a moment, as if to turn away, and then kissed Trick on one cheek…then the other. She said nothing and then turned back to Will.

  “Best be off now!” Will announced, his voice choked with emotion.

  Allie grabbed his hand, wanting to delay the moment of parting as long as possible. Will kept his grip as long as he could, then
let go just before they were to join the ranks of soldiers. The four boys then blended into the dark-blue mass.

  Allie and Jenny watched the spectacle grandly march by. Shouts and exclamations by officers punctured the air. The several recruited companies now formed as the marching band moved to the front of the blue ranks. Colonel Putnam rode Black Hawk to the front of the volunteers as Taggart took to the ground, marching to the front on the left side of the Freeport company.

  Putnam then shouted out the order to march. With that, the boys followed in step while the band played, not walking in military-drill step, but more of a saunter as if in a Fourth of July parade. When they reached Galena Street, the crowd grew into a throng as children and old folks waved tiny flags and even handed baked bread to the boys. The spectacle caused all the volunteers to feel a sense of pride as the excitement welled up in their breasts.

  Jenny and Allie ran as fast as they could to get beyond the crowd to the other side, where the road led to Rockford. They got to the intersection of Broadway and State and positioned themselves under the shade of a small cherry tree.

  The band was approaching, followed by the undulating blue mass.

  As they got within earshot, Allie cupped her hands over her mouth. She looked to and fro, trying to get a familiar glimpse of the boys. She could see no one. The block of men continued down State Street.

  “Friends of the wigwam! We love you!” she shouted.

  A few strangers in the back ranks turned, smiled, and waved, but none of the friends could be seen.

  The band struck up the familiar camp-break song “To the Girl I Left Behind Me,” causing more unfamiliar faces in the ranks to glance at the girls.

  As the rousing song diminished with the blue ranks vanishing in the distance, Allie turned to Jenny and then back to the departing soldiers.